


Faith

by obsessivemuch



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Character Death, Character Study, Community: apocalyptothon, Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivemuch/pseuds/obsessivemuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen Harper has faith in four things</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avariel_wings](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Avariel_wings).



> Request: The team in the Year that Never Was, and how it would have ended if Martha failed.

_Owen Harper has faith in four things._

 _The first was this: belief in a higher purpose or god is a load of bullshit_

 _The second was this: the world will fuck people over if they let it_

 _The third was this: the only way to avoid it is to fuck the world over instead_

 _The fourth was this: everything dies_

 **May**  
Had the assignment come from anyone else, Owen knew Gwen would have tossed it in the ever-growing pile of Rift activity that she didn't care about. But their new Prime Minister knew exactly which button to press when it came to their self-appointed temporary leader. The news that Jack might be found in the Himalayas, fighting an alien invasion, was enough to get the other three moving. Owen only went along to shoot him again. Maybe it would fucking stick this time.

 **June**  
As it turned out, the Himalayas were a lot bigger than Gwen had anticipated. It took a month for them to find anyone who could even tell them about any alien activity since the cold had fried most of Tosh's technology. The tiny bit that was left was only a video link to the BBC; it figured the flagship would be the only thing impervious to freezing weather. It was on of the coldest nights yet that the link flickered on and Harold Saxon appeared, smiling at his unseen audience. Ianto and Tosh ignored the broadcast, focusing on the state of their supplies (the tea had run out the night before) until Gwen sat up with a horrified expression. "Jack!" she cried.

Owen glanced up and grimaced at the video. Images of Jack, a thin man in a brown suit, and a black woman covered the screen as Saxon carefully intoned his words about terrorism and danger. "Jack would never do that," Tosh said as Ianto nodded emphatically, but Owen was too busy studying the people that Jack had abandoned Torchwood for. They didn't appear to be anything special. This did not surprise Owen in the least as Jack had made his careless disregard for his team clear (except for Gwen and Ianto).

"We can't go back," Owen declared.

"Owen!"

"No, Gwen, he left us. He doesn't need us to save his ass, which is something he's been clear about from day one. Saxon has it in for Jack; we're safer here." Before Ianto and Tosh were able to object, he turned and stared at them directly. "Besides, if we went back, Saxon would be able to use you against Jack."

"We can't save the world from here," Gwen argued, her fingers twisting that stupid fucking ring that she couldn't leave alone. "And what about Rhys?"

"Saving the world isn't our responsibility," he reminded her. "We're just around to keep the aliens contained."

"Owen, Gwen's right, we have people that we should get back to," Tosh said gently.

She flinched when he invaded her personal space. "When did you start fucking around again, Tosh? Another alien that's going to take over our minds, one by one? And Ianto! Ianto gave up everything for his dead Cyber girlfriend in the basement and then gave up his dignity to let Jack jam his dick in his ass once in awhile. I don't have anything keeping me tied to Torchwood or Jack. Gwen's the only one who's got something to go back for and that's a useless lump of a guy who doesn't have the smarts to realize that she's only screwing him out of pity and because she's like to pretend she can be normal." Gwen's expression of fury phased Owen not a bit, but there was a momentary second of shame for wounding Tosh and Ianto in the process of getting his point across. "What do you think we can do from Torchwood? Release a bunch of aliens out of time and space again?"

"So what do you expect us to do out here?" Ianto demanded.

"Survive."

 **August**  
Survival was easier said than done though. From almost the first moment they had caught sight of the Toclafane, they had been waiting for the first strike. They had moved around almost daily since the first silver alien ball had destroyed a harmless old man and turned its inhuman sight on them. There was too great a chance that the Master was just waiting for them to slip up and reveal themselves (the alternative of not being important enough had crossed Owen's mind, but he kept it to himself). The aliens who lived near the base of Mount Everest had taken a liking to Gwen and offered shelter and supplies when they were in the area, which was probably the only reason, they hadn't all starved to death yet. And even though Owen had pointed out the problems inherent with the medical doctor hunting, he was the one they relied on to keep them fed when they didn't have the necessary supplies. Still, at some point soon, they were all going to have to face the fact that their supply of ammunition was running low, that a day with only four bullets left was coming soon (one bullet for each member of Torchwood 3 in case of emergency).

The swarm of Yetis appeared over a mountain, shocking the team, and everyone might have survived had Ianto not decided to be a fucking hero and make a last stand. Owen ignored the blood and gore of Ianto's body and took aim with his gun, shooting the bullet, Ianto's bullet, into the heart of the white beast; he watched impassively as the creature dropped to the earth. The rest of the Yetis took one look at their fallen leader and started backing away, keening some ungodly noise. He waited for the edge of the mountain to clear before he turned and looked at Tosh. He wished he felt even a small bit of grief for the loss of Ianto, but the bastard had done it to himself. "How long would it take you to rig up a freezer of some sort?"

"A freezer?" Gwen asked abruptly. He heard the unshed tears in her voice and saw the twisting of her damned ring even before he looked at her face. It figured. He wondered if she'd cry for him when it was his turn.

"For the meat."

"That – that thing killed Ianto," she said in outrage. "And now you want us to what, eat it?"

Owen shrugged and looked back at Tosh. "Tosh? Might as well get something useful out of the idiot's determination to be a hero."

He felt oddly pleased when she said, "Only a couple of days." Unlike Gwen's bleeding heart, Tosh had displayed some surprisingly useful tendencies to be agreeable and sensible.

"Do it."

 **September**  
"Hey, guys!" Gwen called from the edge of the cave.

Hearing the worry in her voice, Owen was outside instantly, Toshiko on his heels. "What?" he said gruffly, drawing his gun. The only thing he really hated about Tosh's invention was that it meant they had to stay in one place in order to take full advantage of the Yeti meat.

"Do you see that?" Her quiet voice seemed lost among the white fur wrapped around her throat.

Owen squinted against the cold, frozen air and noticed the girl trudging through the snow drifts in their direction. "Shit," he muttered. "Another mouth to feed."

"Owen!" Gwen's tone was more severe than he had expected. They had fallen into an uneasy truce in the days since Ianto's death. "She might have news," Gwen said, her eyes shining with hope.

"Or she might just be an agent for the Master."

"If she is, there's three of us," Tosh answered, siding with Gwen. "She might be able to tell us what's happening in the world."

Owen chose not to speak the multitude of things he wanted to say. Instead, he growled, "Weren't you cooking dinner?"

"Let's go in," Tosh said, grinning enigmatically at Gwen and tugging on her hand.

While he waited for their visitor to get closer, he let his brain wander to a naughty place where Gwen and Tosh were happily making out. "Fuck," he muttered. He missed sex a lot – it turned out getting laid regularly was something he had always taken for granted and masturbation with Tosh and Gwen nearby did nothing to relieve the urges he felt. He had lost count of the days that they had been hiding in the Himalayas, but he suspected that he was the only one who didn't mind except for the lack of sex. He only had to wait a short while before the bundled woman approached. "Oh, hello," he said, using his long-unused charm.

He caught a quick glimpse of startled brown eyes before she touched her necklace, tucking it inside her jacket. "Hello." Her voice was uncertain.

"There's a girl," he said with a grin. "Long way from home judging by your accent." His own instincts were screaming that she was dangerous, but he wasn't the type to betray his feelings under any circumstance.

She stood taller, her shoulders tense, as she peered at him. "Are you from Britain?"

"What tipped you off, love? The accent? The language?" he asked dryly. "You've seen my face. Are you going to reveal yourself to me?"

"Why?"

Owen grimaced. She was almost as careful as he was. "Because we were going to invite you to dinner and it's always a pleasure to know who you're sitting down with."

"We?" she asked, glancing around him surreptitiously.

Thankfully, Gwen came out at that point to save him from any more awkward banter. "Soup's on," she said almost cheerfully. Her eyes widened when she saw their guest and she smiled. "Hello, I'm Gwen."

"Oh." It was the woman's turn for an introduction and Owen leaned back against the cave wall with interest; his hand remained lightly on his gun . She looked between them and then started unwrapping the scarf from around her face. "I'm -"

"You're her," Gwen breathed. "Martha Jones."

Owen stiffened, his hand tightening around his gun. They had last seen her with Jack which meant she (probably) wasn't working for the Master. He watched her carefully, waiting to see her reaction at being recognized, but oddly enough, she seemed less discomfited by Gwen's recognition. "What've you heard?"

From the frown on Gwen's face, he suspected she was also confused. "Nothing, really. We've been out of contact with the real world for five months," she explained. "The last we heard you were a terrorist along with um, a couple of other people." Discretion wasn't normally part of Gwen's repertoire, but she seemed to understand that they had to be careful. Still, he was able to feel the excitement humming in her skin as she stood next to him.

"Oh, yeah, right," Martha said, lapsing into silence. "That was a long time ago."

"Did you lose your friends?" Owen asked sarcastically. "Wandering alone through the Himalayas is rarely a good idea."

Martha flushed under his scrutiny. "No, not exactly. More like we got separated."

"What's going on out there?" Gwen's outburst didn't surprise Owen, but he put his hand on her elbow warningly.

"Maybe this is a discussion better left after a full stomach," he muttered. "Are you hungry, Martha Jones?"

"A little," she admitted. He could feel her eyes on his hand on Gwen's elbow and he had a strong suspicion that her eyes hadn't missed the ring on Gwen's finger. "You never did say your name."

"I'm surprised you care, love."

"Ignore him," Gwen said in a low voice. "Owen's become even crankier since we were sent here. I don't think the cold agrees with him."

Martha laughed along with Gwen, but Owen felt her keen eyes on him. He flashed a grin in her direction, but he pushed Gwen into the cave that was their home. He didn't wait to see if Martha followed them, assuming that she had come to the Himalayas for a reason. "Tosh, this is Martha Jones."

"Martha Jones? The Martha Jones traveling with the Doctor and Jack?" Tosh's head whipped around and stared at Martha with pleasure.

"How – how do you know Jack?" Martha asked, faltering in the doorway.

Owen interjected, "Once upon a time, he was our boss. But seeing as how he ditched us for your Doctor, I think it doesn't really matter in the long run."

"You're the rest of Torchwood?"

It was Gwen's turn to interrupt. "How do you know about Torchwood?"

"Before I left them, Jack told us about Torchwood, about how he changed it to help the Doctor rather than trying to capture the Doctor. He didn't have much of a chance to talk about you, but it was clear that he loved you all dearly."

Owen saw Gwen and Tosh relax. "Tell that to Ianto."

"Who's Ianto?"

"The guy Jack was fucking. He was eaten by a Yeti a few months ago," Owen said casually.

"A Yeti?"

"Dinner." Owen turned away from the whole group. "As much fun as it is to catch up on old times, I'd rather skip the fucking discussion of Jack until after dinner. I don't want to ruin my appetite."

Unfortunately, the discussion after dinner did nothing to endear Jack or the Doctor to Owen though he rather liked Martha more than he expected. But once she started in explaining the plan and talking about the Doctor, his estimation of her dropped. She seemed to put too much trust in an alien for his comfort and the plan relied too much on one person. "You're a fool," he said at the end of her little speech.

Even though Martha blanched at his harsh words, Gwen was the first to say, "You're very brave to take all of it on."

"The Master is evil," she said simply. "Millions of people are dead. He plays with the Doctor and Jack because the Doctor cares about Earth and Jack. And if he ever learned of my quest or existence, he would kill me in a heartbeat."

"You don't have to go back," Owen said. "You could stay here." He felt the sharp glances of his teammates, but he wanted to see what Martha would do.

As though she saw through his test, she smiled, patted his hand, and shook her head. "There's too much at stake to hide in a cave. If I can help the Doctor save everyone, then I have to do it. What kind of life is this for anyone to lead?"

"We survive," he said.

"I'm leaving in the morning." Tosh and Gwen immediately offered their hospitality for a little longer. "No, I have to get to Russia next."

The next morning dawned as slowly as the rest of time passed in the mountain range. At the edge of the cave, they all gathered. "Meet me in London in seven months," Martha said.

"Why?"

"So we can get them back, Owen."

Owen felt Gwen start against his side, but he smirked carelessly at Martha. "We’ll see."

She gave him a long look before she finally hugged all three of them. When she got to Owen, she whispered, "Have a little faith."

"Faith in who?" he asked sharply.

"The Doctor. Jack. Torchwood. Yourself. It doesn’t really matter. The most important thing is belief."

 **December**  
On the day they lost Tosh to hypothermia, Owen let Gwen cry into his shoulder. She sobbed and wailed and twisted the fucking ring around her finger. He wondered at her grief since Tosh was still the member of Torchwood she had known the least about. In spite of their time together over the last seven months, Owen had watched Tosh reject Gwen's sympathy and friendship time and time again. She was much more likely to come to Owen if she needed someone to talk to, but Tosh still kept herself at a distance from them. He rather thought it had something to do with her feelings for him, but he wasn't going to call Tosh out on that. It wasn't her fault she wanted him (just like it wasn't his fucking fault that Gwen still seemed to be the only one he saw). He didn't offer Gwen comforting words or soothing pats on the shoulder. When she was done crying, he carefully removed her head from his shoulder and stalked across the cave.

"Owen?" she asked tenuously.

He stared at her, hating her because she was wearing someone else's ring, her eyes were red with tears, and she still made him hard. Fucking Gwen. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said harshly.

"I know you and Tosh were really close." God, how fucking clueless was she? "So you know if you want to talk . . .."

He watched the ring with increasing rage. "I hate that thing."

"What?"

"I hate your engagement ring, Gwen."

Her hand clutched at the ring before it fell away. "Why would you hate my engagement ring? Unless . . .?"

"No, I don't fucking love you, Gwen, or want to marry you and have babies and all that bullshit. But that ring represents a reality that doesn't exist anymore. You wear it like a fucking shield and he's probably dead, Gwen."

Gwen's eyes welled with tears again and Owen felt a rush of sick satisfaction come over him. "Rhys isn't dead, Owen."

"He's not like Jack," he retorted. "Wishing doesn't mean it's actually the truth."

She actually got to her feet, strode across the cave, and slapped him at the point. "He's not dead."

He tasted the blood and smirked at her. "I think you believe the exact opposite."

"I hate you, Owen."

"Too bad I'm all you've got, sweetheart."

She shoved him so he pinned her arms to her side. "You're such a fucking asshole," she hissed.

"And yet you let this fucking asshole know you better than anyone else," he muttered. "More than Jack, more even than your beloved Rhys. Because it wasn't their beds you climbed into at night and confided all your little fears about being part of Torchwood. You didn't let them see the darkness, Gwen. Why?" When she looked away, he grinned in victory. "That's what I thought. I was just your bad boy to fuck in the middle of the night and then pretend that we had nothing."

"You deserted me," she said in a voice that struck too close to home. "You went for your precious Diane and forgot that I even existed. Why wouldn't I choose Rhys? At least he loved – loves me."

Owen grimaced and released her arms. "I left you because I knew you would pick someone else in the end. Rhys – Jack – whoever, didn't fucking matter because it wasn't going to be me."

She kissed him in response, shoving her tongue into his mouth. Owen took the opening she offered, hungry and ardent and hating himself with every second. He pulled her down to the ground and pushed her thighs apart, inserting himself into her with rough, uncouth grace. Seven long months of being stuck in the same room with Gwen, pretending to despise her, pretending that he hadn't wanted to fuck her for months, and she was almost everything he had been waiting for. It was a moment of mutually beneficial fucking, he realized – Gwen had gone for just as long without human contact. He tried to take all that into account, but his body disagreed. Only a few moments later, he rolled off of Gwen and onto the hard ground (as they hadn't even made it back to the blankets and air mattresses).

"Owen," Gwen said softly.

"Yeah?" He didn't want to hear what she was going to say since he suspected he wasn't going to like it.

"We should talk about Martha and . . . what she told us." Jack's name sat unspoken between them.

"What's to talk about?" he said gruffly.

"Are we going to go meet her when it's time?"

"Wasn't planning on it," he said, deciding that the best way to distract Gwen was to pretend that he wasn't even listening. He hadn't even thought about Martha and Jack in the last few hours and it was a fucking relief to realize that he almost didn't care.

 **May**  
By the time they reached Cardiff, Owen and Gwen were both sick and hungry. They also weren't speaking because the silent treatment was much more effective in keeping the peace. News of an underground group had filtered to them through their travels and it was pretty easy to find their location. Less easy was getting any kind of help from the guards at the door. "Don't know what you're talking about," said the first. "Keep moving," said the second.

"Please, have you ever heard the name Rhys Williams?" Owen saw the glance they exchanged and wondered if Gwen would ever know when to shut the fuck up. Unfortunately, Gwen had noticed the glances as well and she pushed forward. "Do you know him?"

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step back." When she moved closer instead, he pulled his gun. "Ma'am."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Owen said. "She's his fiancée."

"His fiancée is dead," said the first one. The second one's gun wavered slightly.

"No, look, here's the ring –" Owen didn't know where the gunshot came from and he didn't really care as Gwen crumpled to the ground in front of him.

He pulled out the last of his medical supplies and tried to stop the bleeding. "You might as well call him. If she dies, he's going to want your blood," Owen said. Gwen gasped and his expression softened when he looked down at her. "No, sweetheart, you're not going to die," he said, lying through his teeth.

Still, there was only enough life left in her body to give her a scant few minutes. Rhys rushed through the door, his face pale and his eyes full of hope, pushing the guards and Owen aside to clutch Gwen. "Gwen, I didn't know. Gwen!"

"Rhys," she said, a smile stretching across her face. "Rhys. Owen, do you see him?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth, imagining Rhys ripped to shreds by the Weevils.

"I love you." Gwen turned glassy eyes toward Owen. "Owen?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" he said, hating the almost expectant tone in his voice.

"Owen, promise me you'll finish it. Promise me that you'll save the Doctor and Martha and Jack."

Fucking Jack. But there was so much hope in her eyes that he decided one more lie couldn't hurt. "I promise."

She managed one last beatific smile for Rhys before her heart and breathing stopped. Owen was on his feet immediately, his gun pointed at Rhys on the ground. There were two bullets left and the one meant for Gwen would do just as much damage to Rhys. Still, the broken man in front of him reminded Owen too much of himself in that moment and he realized there was a worse punishment. "You did this," he said, his rage dwindling. "Now, you can live with this. She wasted a fucking year on you, so sure you were still alive and waiting for her. She had more fucking faith in you than she did in anyone else on this planet and you killed her."

"So kill me," Rhys begged.

"No, I’m not your fucking executioner."

"Owen . . ." Owen turned back to face Rhys. "Thank you for bringing her home."

"She still might be alive if I hadn't brought her here."

"Where will you go?"

"To London. I've got to see a girl."

 **June**  
By the time Owen made it to London, he was beaten, bloody, and cursing the name of Jack Harkness to anyone that would listen. Sometimes he added a couple of other names to the list, but he focused most of his energy on Jack. He arrived at the address on a piece of paper and pounded on the door. "Martha Jones?" he asked brusquely when a younger man opened the door.

The man blanched. "She – she died yesterday. The Toclafane found her and before she could say anything at all, she was dead."

"Fuck," Owen muttered. Martha was supposed to the savior of the world according to everyone else on the planet. He wondered cynically what happened when the savior died – did the world get saved anyway?

"She did leave this," the man offered, handing Owen a backpack. "She said it was the ultimate weapon for the Doctor, the one that could destroy the Master forever."

"And did you believe her?" When the man looked downright offended by the question, Owen understood the truth behind her request for him to have a little faith. She wanted the whole world to believe in the Doctor. Owen just wanted the chance to shoot Jack Harkness again. He hoisted the backpack on his shoulders and stared down at the man impassively. "Thank you."

He swallowed. "What are you going to do?"

Truthfully, Owen couldn’t say what he was going to do, but he would never admit something like that to anyone else. "Find a way to save the world."

In the coldest, darkest part of London, he found one of the fucking creatures that had taken Martha from them and stood still with a neutral expression. "Take me to your Master," he instructed. "I was a friend of Jack Harkness’s."

The creature started to speak (it almost sounded human), but Owen found himself transported into a large, comfortable room with an audience of a dozen or so people. "So lovely to meet you, my boy," said a friendly voice, and Owen turned to find the Master smiling congenially at him. "Any friend of Jack’s – well, you know it would be a lie. I’m more interested in why you came. You and your team did a bang-up job hiding from me for the last year."

"Don’t say anything, Owen," Jack’s voice said, sounding hoarse and desperate. Owen flung a glance over his shoulder to find the leader of Torchwood straining against chains.

He suppressed the irrational feeling of hope underneath an icy glare. "Don’t waste your breath, Harkness."

"Oh, my," the Master said with clear delight. "Jack, I don’t think this one likes you much at all." He spun around and touched the hand of a pretty, young thing. "Lucy, do you see?" Her smile might have been beautiful once, but Owen saw the make-up over the black eye and the pain in her fragile gaze as she nodded. "So, Dr. Harper, are you a turncoat?"

Owen shrugged dispassionately. "I’m here because my team is dead and the person I was supposed to meet is gone as well."

"All of them?" Jack asked, and Owen pictured the pained eyes and the furrowed brow.

He nearly laughed when he said, "Ianto was killed by a Yeti and Tosh froze to death."

"And Gwen?"

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Owen said bitterly, casting a slanted look in Jack’s direction. "She died because Rhys is leading an underground revolution and one of his men decided to shoot her because he didn’t know who she was. Don’t worry, Jack, the last word out of her fucking mouth was your name." He ignored Jack's devastated expression in favor of looking at a small, old man in a cage.

The Master smirked. "That is my prize, Dr. Harper. Meet the Doctor." Owen heard an emotion that he didn't have the skills to identify so he focused on the Doctor, Martha's hero, the man Jack had left Torchwood for, and ultimately the alien that was supposed to save them all. He wasn't impressed.

"So now that you've taken over the world, do you think you're invincible?" Owen asked casually, turning back to the thing that had once been Harold Saxon.

"Invincible? I am indeed." He laughed in a joyful way, the mania shining out of his eyes. "Is that why you came here, Dr. Harper? To kill me?"

"No," Owen said and pulled out the gun that Martha had spent so much time collecting. "I came so he could kill you." Owen jerked his head toward the old man.

The Master paused. "Will you give him the weapon to kill me? You're a healer, Dr. Harper. Can you be the bow that shoots the arrow?"

Grimacing, Owen gestured toward the cage. "Why don't you let him go and I'll show you why I'm not a fucking healer?"

"We seem to be at an impasse," the Master said mildly. "I have all the power and you have something that I want."

"That's not much of an impasse."

"You're right," he said with a giddy smile. "Mr. Jones, seize him."

"Owen!" Jack cried out as a large hand clutched his wrist painfully, forcing him to drop the weapon.

"Mr. Jones?" he asked, glancing at the large man next to him. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Martha Jones, I suppose."

The hand loosened considerably and Owen watched the man shift, casting a glance at the Master. "Martha?"

"Ah, yes, the lovely Martha Jones," the Master said. "Perhaps you would like to tell them about Martha."

"What's there to know? She walked the world to save _him_ and managed to get herself killed right before the ultimate victory. Sounds like a shitty way to die." He heard half the room inhale sharply and realized there must be more than one Jones in the room along with Jack and the Doctor.

"So much bitterness." The Master picked up the gun and weighed it in his hand. He shot a look at the Doctor before he strolled over to the cage. "If I used this on you, would you finally die?"

"Why don't you try it on me instead?" Jack called. Even now, he was more concerned with his fucking Doctor than with saving the world.

"Don't tempt me, Jack," the Master said. He condescended to look at Owen and asked, "For bringing me this, I'll give you the world, Dr. Harper. What do you want most?"

"You're a time traveler. Can you bring back a person who has died?" The Master narrowed his eyes at him, all the answer Owen needed. "No? Then I want the chance to shoot Jack with that gun."

"You're a man after my own heart, I think." The Master brought the gun back to him while Owen turned to face Jack one last time.

He saw the fear in Jack's eyes. "You never did trust me, Jack. Was it because you knew I'd turn against you in the end?"

"No!" said a sharp, soft voice. Owen glanced at the Doctor. "No more killing," he pleaded.

Owen laughed and smashed the gun to the ground. "The whole world should be destroyed starting with you and ending with him." He gestured to the Master with the broken gun and then to Jack. He spun to face the Master and rushed him with the pieces of the gun. As the Master stepped out his way, Owen felt the bullets riddle his body. He slid to the ground, hearing Jack's voice calling his name over and over again.

"It wasn’t supposed to be this way," the Doctor moaned. "The gun – it was never about the gun!"

"What?!" the Master demanded. "The Archangel Network. Shut it down!"

As the communication network powered down, Owen heard the Doctor's weeping increase. He scowled at the weakness, thought Torchwood had been such a fucking waste of time, and had a moment to be glad he was done with the whole fucking world before it was over.

 _Owen Harper has faith in four things._

 _The first was this: belief in a higher purpose or god is a load of bullshit_

 _The second was this: the world will fuck people over if they let it_

 _The third was this: the only way to avoid it is to fuck the world over instead_

 _The fourth was this: everything dies_


End file.
